Resting in Peace
by mettigel
Summary: A fluffy one-shot of Ron's and Hermione's first night after the war. Yeah, terrible title for that sort of story, but I couldn't resist the pun. COMPLETE. Rated T for language, mild graphicness and paranoia. - UPDATE: Chapter 2 added.
1. May 2, 1998

_Author's Notes__: Howdy, it's me again! Looks like JKR's recent interview has kinda given me the drive to finally put more fanfic ideas to (virtual) paper. So, here's another one. Please R&R!_

_Disclaimer__: I'd sort of like to see what would happen if I said "YES, this is all mine!". Then again, I don't want to know._

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><p><strong>Resting in Peace<strong>

_(May 2, 1998)_

The war was over and after leaving the headmaster's office, Harry, Ron and Hermione had made a beeline straight for the Gryffindor common room where, a short time later, they had been joined by Ginny. A hearty reunion, a plate of sandwiches courtesy of the house-elves and an exchange of updates later (in which the trio had given Ginny a quick and dirty summary of the last year, Ginny had told the others that the Weasleys, including Harry and Hermione, would leave for the Burrow the next day and Hermione had let Ron's family know by Patronus that they were fine), Harry, who had been looking so knackered that he had threatened to fall asleep sitting up at any moment, had gone up to his dorm, Ginny in his tow.

"We should go to sleep, too," Hermione remarked, gently running her hand along Ron's arm.

Ron looked daggers at the door behind which Harry and Ginny had disappeared moments before.

"No way I go kip where those two are... _urgh_!" he said, not bringing himself to actually finish this sentence and instead opting for making a face that hopefully conveyed the appropriate level of unadulterated disgust.

"Don't be ridiculous, Ron," Hermione said exasperatedly. "What d'you think they're doing up there? Harry could barely keep his eyes open."

"I really, really don't want to know ," Ron said, shaking his head. "Really."

"So where else do you think we should sleep then?" she asked and Ron's stomach did a somersault. Perhaps she had not been aware of it, but she way she had put it, she had just implied that she wanted to spend the night with him.

"Er, right here?" he suggested while he felt his idiotic ears burn. Traitors.

"Right. Here in the common room. Where everyone who wants to go to the dorms will see us and wake us up with their racket."

"So what's _your_ suggestion, then?"

"Come with me," she said, jumped to her feet, grabbed his hand and pulled him up. He allowed her to drag him across the room, but when he realized what they were heading for, he stopped dead in his tracks.

"_The girls' dorms?_"

"Yep."

"But I thought boys weren't allowed-"

"I suppose that won't be so important today."

"Yeah, but I don't just mean the rules. What about the alarm? I really don't fancy having half the school know that I tried to get up there - _again_," Ron added when he remembered his first unsuccessful attempt at conquering those bloody stairs years ago. The embarrassment that had come out of it had clearly been enough for a lifetime.

"Trust me. I'm sure that won't be happening," Hermione said and Ron did not miss the sad undertone in her voice.

"Okay. For you," he relented and they both continued to walk. When they reached the stairs, Hermione tensed up a bit, giving his hand a little squeeze, and then started to go upstairs. Behind her, Ron gingerly placed his foot onto the first step, and, when nothing happened, kept following her. The stairs never reacted to his presence and he wondered with a pang what this must be saying about the state of the castle as a whole.

Eventually, they entered Hermione's gratefully undamaged dorm. Ron looked around with curiosity. He had never been up here. The room, however, looked very similar to his own dorm, except for the fact that this one housed only three four-poster beds instead of five. Judging by the large photo of Harry, Hermione and himself on the nightstand, he assumed that the bed on the left was Hermione's.

His assumption turned out correct when Hermione walked over to the exact same bed, produced her beaded bag and pulled out pajamas and toothbrushes for both of them before she turned to face him.

"I think we should get cleaned up first," she said and drew Bellatrix' wand. "As much as I'd love a shower right now, I don't think I can stay awake long enough to actually have one."

"Yeah, me too," Ron said and fumbled to pull Pettigrew's wand out of his pocket. "Uh, you first?" he suggested and when Hermione nodded, he pointed the wand at her and said "_Tergeo!_", feeling rather self-conscious about his wandwork, but much to his relief, it turned out fine.

"Now you," Hermione said. "_Tergeo!_" And he closed his eyes as Bellatrix' wand seemed to suck in the air around him.

"So, now," Hermione piped up again when she was done and he looked down at his now clean self with appreciation. "Should I go to the loo first or do you want to-"

"You," Ron said immediately. Not only did he want Hermione to get rest first, he also was not certain where exactly he was supposed to sleep and he hoped that whatever state he would find the dorm in when he left the loo would help him determine that.

"Okay," she said, grabbed her pajamas and toothbrush and walked into the room at the far side of the dorm. Minutes later she re-emerged, dressed in her pajamas and her hair somewhat less messy than before.

Giving her a smile, Ron took his stuff and entered the loo. After he had changed his clothes and brushed his teeth, he looked into the mirror above the little sink. He was pleased to see that his mother had done a good job at patching him up down in the Great Hall. His face was pale and his eyes were rather baggy, but apart from that, he looked just like he had looked the morning when they had left Shell Cottage, even though he was sure that he had had at least one bleeding gash on his cheek hours before.

He opened the door and remained standing in the doorway, nervously looking around. And his heartbeat doubled in speed when he saw that the curtains of Hermione's four-poster were open and she was lying on her side, smiling at him and invitingly patting the free space next to her.

Painfully aware that his feet and arms were much too long, Ron walked over and tentatively laid down by her side. Hermione immediately put an arm around his shoulders and, using the wand in her other hand, closed the curtains, cast a Silencing Charm and then ignited the wand so that they could see each other.

They both exchanged nervous grins as they looked at each other. Assuming that he was allowed to do so, Ron placed a trembling hand on Hermione's shoulder blade while her hand wandered up and started to play with the hair on the nape of his neck, occasionally scraping his neck with her nails which sent pleasant shivers down his spine. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the moment. After all those months of sleeping in an undersized bunk bed with a crappy mattress or even right on the floor, finally lying in a large, warm, soft and clean bed seemed to him like a downright luxury, and having the girl of his dreams in his arms while he was at it made it even so much better.

His eyes still closed, he leaned forward and his nose nudged a patch of her skin. He lifted his head and brushed his lips against it. When he heard her giggle, he opened his eyes and looked at her. He had kissed her nose. He smiled and she smiled back, her warm eyes dancing with joy and he felt as though he was falling in love with her all over again.

And he spoke it out, just because he could.

"I love you," he whispered and kissed her nose again.

"I love you, too, Ron. So much," Hermione replied and it looked as if she was about to tear up. Her hand moved up and came to rest on the side of his head and he could not help himself. He shifted his head and kissed her on the lips.

She returned his kiss with great enthusiasm, both her hands tangling into his hair and her leg draped around his, and he could all but feel the love and emotion that she poured into her kiss. He tried to do the same for her as best as he could, wanting to let her know how much this meant to him, how much _she_ meant to him. It was all he could do to keep himself from losing himself in her completely. This kiss was different from their first in the Room of Requirement: while that one had been full of urgency and despair, this one was way more intense and passionate, and also more significant, like a promise. A promise for a future they could spend together. At this thought, his stomach flipped with pure elation and he started to feel lightheaded. This was so much better than anything that he had imagined for himself. In the light of the circumstances during the past years, having a future at all had seemed highly unlikely.

Highly unlikely indeed.

And not everyone had beat the odds.

With enormous willpower, he pulled away and rolled onto his back.

"What's the matter?" Hermione asked, confusion evident in her voice.

"I... I just... I..." Ron started, rubbing his eyes and trying to sort his thoughts. "I don't know what to think, Hermione," he tried to explain. "I... I mean... The war is over. We're free now. We should be happy. Celebrating. But how can we do that when... when so many people have died? Lupin and Tonks just had their kid, and now the tyke's gotta grow up without his parents. F-_Fred_... He was only twenty. Bleeding blithering _twenty_! He'd practically just started to live and now he's... he's _gone_... and my family... _oh, God_... my family will never be whole again. And yet, here I am, and I'm so happy with you like I've never been before and it feels just so wrong, like I'm not supposed to be happy, not when so many people are suffering..."

He let out a growl, brought up his arms and started to claw at his hair in frustration. Hermione bent over him and gently removed his arms from his face and he could not help looking at her as she was sadly smiling down at him.

"Ron," she said.

He did not know what to say, so he just continued to look up at her uncertainly.

"Ron," she said again. "I... I think it's normal to feel all that. At any rate, I feel the same."

"But how is that okay for you?" he asked with despair.

"I'm not saying it's okay," she responded, gently letting her fingertips run down the side of his face. "It is awful and _bloody_ wrong that all those people died. But, think, why did we do all this? Why did we fight?"

"To get rid of V-Voldemort," Ron said promptly.

"And why did we want to get rid of him?"

"Because he and his cronies were bleeding lunatic psychos that murdered everyone who didn't fit into their world view."

"Right," Hermione agreed. "And because of that, none of us could've lived freely as long as they were still around. None of us could've had a future. And that was what we were fighting for: for a future in freedom, in peace, without fear."

"Of course we will mourn the fallen and it will never fully go away," she continued. "But they wouldn't want us to hold back and be miserable forever. They would've wanted us to be happy, to live our lives and to make the most of it. That's what they fought for, that's what they wanted us to. And that's the best we can do to thank them: _live_."

Hermione brushed her thumb across his cheek and this was when he realized that he had started to cry. "Y-you think so?" he asked, his voice nothing but a croak.

"Yes. I know it," she whispered and pressed her lips against his forehead.

Ron started to shake. And he threw his arms around Hermione and rolled them both over so that they were lying on their sides again. He buried his face into her shoulder, taking in her calming warmth and scent, and, feeling safe and secure in her embrace, he let down his defenses, letting out his tears. Above him, he felt her cry into his hair as well and he clung tighter to her, both needing her strength and wanting to comfort her. They kept lying like that and slowly, the tears became less, out of exhaustion or out of sincere calm, he was not sure, but it was fine with him all the same.

"I'm so glad you're here," he whispered and brushed his lips across her collarbone. "Don't let go."

"I won't," Hermione whispered back, tightening her hold around his shoulders. "Ever."


	2. May 3, 1998

_(May 3, 1998)_

"Answer me! _CRUCIO!" [1]_

Bellatrix' curse inflicted pain. Tremendous amounts of blinding, searing, flesh-ripping pain that she was already too familiar with. Only this time, it was not her who was screaming and writhing in agony on the marble floor in the salon of Malfoy Manor.

It was Ron.

And all she could do was screaming his name and begging Bellatrix to stop. Apart from that, she could not move, could not come to his help, as she seemed to be paralyzed by some weird incomplete version of the Body-Bind Curse. Or something like that. She could not be too sure.

_"HERMIONE!"_

"Oooh, you want me to stop, Mudblood, do ya?" Bellatrix spat, looking down at her with a malicious glint in her black eyes. "Very well. I will do as you wish. This filthy dirtbag of a blood traitor is of no use anyway."

And with that, she turned back towards Ron and trained her wand on him.

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

_"HERMIONE!"_

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Hermione cried as Ron's body, still twitching from the residue of the Cruciatus, was hit by a green jet of light and then unceremoniously thudded to the floor, lifeless like a sack of coal.

It could not be. This could not be happening. Now sobbing in earnest, cheeks drenched with tears, body trembling violently, she squeezed her eyes shut because as long as she did not have to see his dead body, she could still make herself believe that he was alive and that things would somehow, miraculously, turn out fine.

_"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"_

Her body was now uncontrollably shaking with sobs. And through all of this, she could feel the presence of a person close to her, holding her by the shoulder. But that was impossible. None of the persons in the salon would call her by her name.

Or would they?

Slowly, Hermione opened her eyes and found herself face to face with a very concerned-looking Ginny.

It did not take long for her to do the math. She was lying on the familiar cot in Ginny's room, she had had a nightmare, Ginny had shaken her up and, judging by the mass of people in the small room, she must have screamed in her sleep and woken up the entire house. There were Ginny, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Harry, George, Percy and...

"Ron!" she cried out, her arms reaching out for him.

Ron immediately made his way towards her, squeezing past his family members, and dropped to his knees beside the cot. Once he was close enough, Hermione's arms flung around him and she hugged him tightly to herself, pressing his face firmly into her shoulder as she continued to weep without restraint. She did not care about the fact that Harry and the other Weasleys were still around, did not care about how ridiculous she must be looking. All that was important to her now was Ron and the knowledge that he was safe and sound and _alive_.

His presence and warmth slowly calmed her and eventually, her cries became quiet enough for her to hear the sounds of hushed conversations and people walking out of the room. With a last sniffle, she loosened her hold on Ron just enough so that he could sit upright. She looked around and noted that everyone else had left, except for Harry and Ginny who were looking down at her with uneasy expressions.

"Are you all right?" Ginny asked. "Mum wants to know if you need something. She also brought you some sleeping potion," she added, pointing at a glass on her nightstand.

Hermione shook her head. "I'm fine," she said. "And I don't want the potion."

"Are you serious?" Ginny asked incredulously.

"Yes," Hermione replied. "I've been taking this potion every single day since... well, for far too long already," she skidded around her torture that the Weasleys did not - yet - know about. "I need to learn dealing without it. I can't depend on that stuff for the rest of my life."

Ginny looked at her with suspicion but did not ask any questions which Hermione was tremendously grateful for.

"You didn't take it _every_ day, did you?" Ron piped up.

"No. You were there," Hermione said simply.

It was true. There had been two nights after the torture in which Hermione had not taken the potion: the first one was the night right after the incident because Bill and Fleur had yet had to brew a stash, the second was the previous night, which she had spent at Hogwarts. And in both these nights, Ron had stayed by her side.

Harry was obviously riding along on her train of thought.

"If Ron can keep you from having nightmares, maybe he should stay with you tonight," he suggested tentatively.

Hermione's stomach made a flip. She was slightly embarrassed by the notion that she might now become dependent on _Ron_, but she found the prospect of having him with her too appealing to dismiss. She uncertainly looked up at him. His face was flushed but he was warmly smiling down at her and nodded ever so slightly.

"Okay," she whispered and let go of him. Ron got to his feet and lowered himself to sit on the cot.

Upon which Ginny emitted a sound that reminded Hermione very much of Ron whenever he thought of Harry and Ginny spending time alone together.

"Erm, perhaps we should switch rooms," Harry interjected wisely.

It spoke volumes that Ron either did not realize or did not mind that this would also lead to Harry and Ginny in one room.

"Yeah, I guess we should," he said meekly and turned back to Hermione. "Is that okay?"

"Uh-huh," Hermione said and Ron took her hands into his and stood up, taking her along with him.

"Night then," he said to Harry and Ginny.

"Yeah, night... And thanks for everything," Hermione said.

"Night," Harry and Ginny responded.

Still holding Hermione's hand, Ron then turned on the spot and the next moment, the pair of them turned up in Ron's room with a little _pop_. He stepped over to his bed and made an inviting sort of gesture to Hermione, but she just shook her head.

"No, you first," she said.

He raised a brow in confusion but then shrugged and got under the blankets, rolling onto his side so that he faced her. She immediately followed and took him into her arms while he embraced her, and she rested her forehead against his.

"I'm sorry I woke you up," she mumbled several moments later. "I must look like such a baby."

"Don't fuss," Ron replied and ran a hand through her hair before he pulled away to look into her eyes. "Do you wanna talk about it?"

Hermione closed her eyes and nodded. "I dreamt about Bellatrix," she said, took a breath and opened her eyes again. "But this time, it was... y-_you_ whom she tortured and then she... k-_killed_ you..."

She closed her eyes another time in order to hold in the tears that were threatening to spill out. With a groan, Ron briefly squeezed her to himself and then cupped her cheek in his hand, gently stroking away the tears that had escaped her after all.

"Hey, look at me," he said and when she opened her eyes, her gaze was returned by one of utmost sincerity.

"It was just a dream," Ron said with emphasis. "Just a dream. Look. I'm here. You're here. And she's gone. She can no longer do anything to us. To _anyone_."

"Yeah, but it felt so _real_," Hermione said with a shudder.

"I know," Ron said and it made Hermione wonder if he had also had dreams about the Manor. But before she made the decision to ask him that, he had already continued, "But _isn't_ real. The war is over. We're all safe. And as for me, well, I'm afraid you're stuck with me. I'm definitely not gonna die on you. "

Hermione chuckled and gave him a quick peck on the nose. "Right. And I won't let you," she said and then she pushed him onto his back and rolled over so that she was half lying on top of him in a protective manner, one hand on his shoulder and her head on his chest. His arms immediately went around her and she closed her eyes. And his scent, the warmth of his body, the steady, somewhat accelerated beat of his heart, the soft rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, all this slowly calmed her into a pleasant state of drowsiness.

"I love you," she whispered sleepily.

"I love you, too," Ron murmured in response. "You have no idea how much."

She lightly tilted her head and placed a lingering kiss on his chest, then resumed her previous position. And before sleep came to take her away completely, she reveled in the feeling of being alive.

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><p><em>[1] Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows, Signature series, p. 513 © 2007 J.K. Rowling<em>


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